Watercolor: A Jacob&Bella Story
by CrystalSearcher
Summary: Riverview Psychiatric Facility. Five wards, depending on the severity of the condition with level 5 as the highest and most dangerous. Can love form and grow in such a place? J/B. Canon-pairings. OOC, rated M for dark themes, gory scenes, adult situations
1. Prologue

A/N: This is my first fanfic. I'm big on Team Jake and always wanted to show that support; so, I started a community dedicated to this greatness. This is an AH/AU Jacob/Bella as the main pairing. That pairing will not change under any circumstances and will be the focus of this story. I'll update as soon as possible now that I'm on break, but I really don't care if anyone complains about faster updates. Jake and Bella are the same age of seventeen for the purpose of this story. I guess this is Bella-centric. And there won't be any real Jacob action for a while yet. There's a lot of familiar faces though. Italics are her thoughts or conscience.

Summary: Riverview Psychiatric Facility. Five wards, depending on the severity of the condition with level 5 as the highest and most dangerous. Can love form and grow in such a place? J/B. Canon-pairings. OOC, rated M for dark themes, gory scenes, suicide, adult situations.

**Prologue:**

She wasn't crazy. Just misunderstood. Just a little tired. That's what she told herself.

But, no one believed her. Not Renee, not Phil (but he doesn't count). So, she locked herself in her own world with no one to judge her. But the pain was still there, and it wouldn't go away.

She needed a reason to stay here, alive, in this world that didn't and refused to understand, to stay with the people that denied her what she's wanted for so long ever since then. It was then that she decided there was only one thing she could do, find proof herself. Proof of her existence, that she was still technically human, that she had a life to survive with (cherishing it was too much to ask of her).

It was by accident, actually. The knife slipped while preparing dinner with her easily-excited mother one summer evening, and the proof came oozing out of her.

Ever since then it was a slice here and there. Another scar to add to the ones already on her heart that just wouldn't heal.

She noticed that she was getting thinner, started eating less, going outside less, retreating further and further into herself. When school started again, they ignored her like they always have, but now they also talked about her. Little whispers behind her back. _She's so thin. I bet she throws up to look better. Is she on drugs? Probably has sex with her dealer to pay for them. She's such a little whore._

Sometimes their words hurt, but the result is the same whether she cares for them or not. _Slice_

It was one day in particular, November 5th, that she slipped up.

After avoiding all the suspicions, her mother's incessant nagging, Phil's barely concerned but more aloof glances, looks from all the potheads and sluts at school thinking they can get a hit from her, and molding into the ignorance of everything going on around her, one slip sealed her fate.

She cut too deep. They found her in the tub an hour later and rushed her to the emergency room. She was on IV for three days afterward. Her parents, if they can really call themselves that, did the only thing they though they could do. Send her away, because they didn't know how to handle her.

It was probably for the best though. They could never handle her right anyways.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Got some response on a 500-word prologue. I'm honored, I really am. DeathsMannequin and Lilly Monroe are my BFs on this angst-induced journey. Thanks guys. I was really holding out on this cause of my perfectionist tendencies. Sorry for that by the way. Enjoy Bella's first look at her new pad. Jacob will come in when he feels like it. It's a slow-build cause I want to focus on character for my first story as a sort of practice for any other ones. Love you Ninjababes.**

**Chapter 1: Welcome to the Circus**

The best place they could find was in upstate Washington, a white painted compound with gardens surrounded by forest and stream. Or at least, that's how it appeared from the brochure.

Renee always liked the idea of a white picket fence and dark green-painted shutters, big backyard. She also likes projecting her warped fantasies into reality. It's probably why she choose the place.

Bella still doesn't know how Phil deals with her. She guesses it's the reason why he's almost half her age, whatever that is.

It was a quiet, not counting Renee's talk about how wonderful and helpful her stay at the "nice, well-run institution" will be, car ride to the Phoenix airport. Bella wondered what exactly was her meaning of "institution" and for that matter "nice" and "well-run".

There were no heartfelt goodbyes on her part. Renee was in tears. Phil was slightly off to the side as always, looking like he didn't quite know what to do. He resolved to just an awkward hug with a pat on the back. Renee was more reluctant to let go until she had to let go to hysterically sob with Phil's arm around her. They left after Bella got on the ramp.

After a two-hour delay at the airport due to trafficking followed by a three-and-a-half-hour flight complete with annoying backseat-kicking kid, even more annoying business man speaking in hushed(which they really weren't) tones the whole flight next to her while constantly ordering coffee as much as he didn't need it, and an although impossible but some how still even more annoying flight attendant, who was previously warned by her mother about her "traumatic experience" promptly and extensively before the flight, watching her every intake of breath, the plane landed at the SeaTac airport.

She was supposed to be picked up by one of the doctor's wives, which she was. The wife being Esme Cullen, who was waiting patiently at the terminal.

Esme smiled at the mahogany-haired girl and held her hand out to shake. "My name's Esme. I'm sure your parents talked to you about the transport arrangements to the facility."

Bella gave a stoic yet timid expression, staring at the hand warily for a moment before grasping it lightly. "Yes, your one of the doctor's wife. You're going to drive me there."

Esme smiled warmly, which Bella did not return. "Yes, dear. It's easier to get there if you know how. When your parents expressed concern about your safety, well, I just jumped at the chance to help." She laughed lightly after this.

Bella surveyed Esme more closely. She had honey-colored hair with reddish highlights. Warm hazel eyes with a curvy figure to boot. Her skin was flawless. She was wearing a lavender v-cut sweater with a beige woolen coat and black slim pants topped with round-toed light purple heels. Bella knew that the good doctor had to be packing a lot of money, and that made her wonder how much of a dick he must be since he's already rich and has a hot wife to pamper.

If Esme was uncomfortable with Bella's blatant observing, she didn't show it. She grabbed hold of Bella's shoulder and started to guide her towards baggage claim, but Bella flinched at her touch and carefully extracted herself away from the woman.

Again, if Esme was uncomfortable, she didn't show it. She just followed Bella along, moving slightly ahead just in-case Bella didn't know where to go and she could lead.

After getting her baggage, which consisted of two duffels filed with all her clothes and "womanly treasures" as her mother put it, she and Esme trekked towards parking. The vehicle they would be driving was somewhere on the B level.

Said vehicle was some sort of silver Volvo, with leather interior of course. Bella placed her bags in the backseat where she could keep on eye on them in-case some random orderly popped out of the little door in the center back seat to the trunk and stole them or something. She wouldn't put it past them to. After all, Mrs. Cullen did look a little too eager to escort her in the first place.

The drive took another four hours of mildly awkward, though extremely to Bella, silence out of her life. All she could do was look out the window at her new homestate. One though entered her mind when she finally comprehended where she was.

_Dad lives here_.

Not that he knew what was happening with her. He hadn't called to check up on her. She hadn't called to tell him how she was doing. Renee doesn't talk about him much less to him about anything, even about Bella's health. Whatever way, they would have had to deal with a very uncomfortable conversation before awkwardly (the word that almost defines her life) hanging up the phone with a quick "bye".

She didn't think she would even get to see him seeing as they were heading in the completely opposite direction as Forks. Though, a part of her hopes that he's fine at least. She wonders if he still goes to the La Push reservation to meet his friend Billy Black and that other man. _Was it Cleanwear?_ _No, wait, Clearwater. Yea, that's it. I never liked him._ In reality, she recalled a past fishing trip when she was nine-years-old. Her dad managed to get her to come along during one the few summer trips she took to his house in the small town of Forks. Charlie didn't catch anything, Billy laughed at him, and the Clearwater fellow started to wave his fishing rod around as a joke acting like he was some sort of hunter. The hook landed in her finger. She spent the rest of the trip in the car and never spoke or looked at that man since.

She also recalled him having two kids. She never met them. She remembered Billy's son though. _Justin, James, no, Jacob_. Jacob Black. He was scrawny, but had the brightest smile. _I always liked his mom._ She wonders how they are now.

Her musings of past adventures on First Beach with Jacob and outings to the local diner with her dad distracted her until Esme touched her shoulder, snapping her out of her daze. "We're here sweetie."

Bella wants to ask what right she has to call her "sweetie" but holds her tongue, out of respect but mostly cowardice. She was never known for her witty comebacks but rather for her introversion to just about any situation and/or person.

Bella looks out the window and sees a white stone-brick wall, the only opening through the driveway being block by a white, ornate gate with security pillars on both sides. _How inviting._

Esme drives up towards it and stops at the window of the pillar on the left. The guard asks for ID and all that jazz. She hands him some sort of packet which, Bella guesses, holds all the information on why she's here and that the orderlies are safely in the trunk ready to steal her backpacks just in-case she tries anything funny. After he's satisfied with that deadly information, he signals to the other guard in the other pillar to unlock the gate.

She finds herself in front of the very building she can't help of loath and what conspiracies it's conspirating against her just because she wanted some damn proof of her existence like any normal human being. _But they don't think you're normal, that's the point._

After gathering her duffel bags, with Esme at the head, she is lead up the stairs and into the ground floor lobby.

Esme whispers something to the lady at the desk, who looks like she likes going under the knife a little too much, and turns to Bella. "You're going to be shown to your room by an attendant while I check you in. You can put down your bags and freshen up a little before going to meet Carlisle."

"Carlisle?"

"My husband. He's the head of the faculty, a very talented and wonderful man. You'll like him, I promise." Esme says, smiling.

_Since when are you in the business of making me promises?_ Bella nods anyways. She doesn't want to look retarded on top of what they already think of her.

The lobby looks more like that of a hotel rather than a psychiatric facility. Where Bella expects white-painted walls and hardwood chairs with wrist restraints she sees tan, sandy-looking paint and burgundy-leather cushioning. The floors some black granite, so polished you can see yourself in them perfectly.

The desk is made of nicely-stained wood and the same granite _Or is it marble?_ tile. The receptionist, attendant, whatever is dressed in some sort of comfortable business attire.

There are two elevators on the left side of the wall and a hall on the other side. Probably some offices or something.

Bella asks, "Are we going in the elevator?"

Esme smiles at her as if she is glad she's speaking to her again, "Yes, we're placing you in Ward 3 until you are evaluated by Dr. Cullen. Afterwards, well see whether you move up or down."

Sensing her confusion, Esme adds, "There are five wards total with Ward 1 holding our patients who are about ready to leave; Ward 2 holds most of the starting patients that are relatively harmless in the beginning; Ward 3 holds our more serious starting patients and quite a few in better recovery from the higher levels; Ward 4 is of course even more serious with orderlies working round-the-clock shifts and excessive but necessary checkups, restraints if needed; lastly, Ward 5 hold the most dangerous, to themselves and others. They are constantly watched for any changes in behavior. It gets very violent up there."

Esme further explains, seeing the disturbed look on Bella's face, "I know it seems heartless, but we really do care about all our patients. Bella, you need to understand how things work around here if you're going to move up, or rather down, the ladder."

She touches Bella's shoulder gently, already having noticed noticed Bella's discomfort with physical contact, "We just want you to get better and feel better." she smiles again.

_These people are insane._ The elevator dings, making Bella jump. She never liked elevators. They could malfunction, trapping her inside with people she doesn't know that could rape her or something, added to the fact that this place is full of crazies; or, the cables could snap, sending her into a fiery doom at the bottom of the shaft. She would rather trip on every stair level and then die of asphyxiation than get into the steel metal death trap people dare call "a convenience".

A stout African woman with her dark hair in a bun and dressed a pink and light blue nurse's uniform stepped out of the elevator. "Hello, Esme."

Esme replied, "Hello Annie. Bella, this is Annie Carpwell; she'll help you to your room."

Annie smiled at Bella, "Good afternoon, Bella Swan is it?"

Bella nodded meekly, "Yeah."

"Well, step in. The 3rd Ward is on the 4th floor, and I believe your room has a window view."

"Thanks." Bella did not know how to act around these people. It was all so new.

She stepped into the contraption that will most likely cause her death while the nurse lady pushed the button for the 4th floor. Esme waved at Bella before the doors closed, sealing her fate. Bella braced herself against the wall as the elevator rose up.

The walls were getting closer together, and the lights were blinding. _Oh God, she's going to die blind._ She could hear the "click" and "clack" of the cables holding their weight, then this horrid bell noise screeching in her ears. She hears her name, _Bella, Bella_. "Bella!".

All of a sudden, everything is back to normal. She feels pressure on her arm and looks to Annie who seems a little unsettled but still keeping that annoying smile on her face. "We're here, honey. You don't really like elevators do you?"

Bella sarcastically admires her grand skills of observation for a moment but lets go of the comment she so badly wanted to give. "No, not really."

Annie's smile widens and for a moment Bella dreams of a wayward razor finding its way into Annie's pudding one day. "Come on then Bella. I'll show you to your room." Annie begins walking down the hall the elevator opened to.

The hallway is just that, a hallway, but it is just as fancy as the lobby. The floors made up of marble tile, _Or is it granite?_ The walls are painted light green with white trimmings in the corners. There are pictures on the wall of landscapes and paintings in black and white. Bella recognizes one of them as a picture of a Van Gogh painting. She finds amusement that they show a picture of someone's art and that someone was a complete loon himself, a brilliant and talented loon but a loon nonetheless.

On occasion, she sees a potted plant. Whether they're real or plastic she doesn't know, but they look green and plain. Striking colors would probably scare the crazies, also explaining the black and white pictures.

At the end of the hallway, there is a security door with a scanner and keypad and what appears to be a right corner-turn after it. Annie walks up to it and scans the ID card hanging from a black string on her neck, then inputs a code on the pad. The little bulbs on the lock turn green and it unlocks. She opens the door and lets Bella walk through first.

Bella does walk but hesitantly, clinging to the fear of someone attacking her out of nowhere. Technically, a hallway can be considered an enclosed space. Add the security door that she can't get through and you have a disaster waiting to happen.

Going around the corner, there are five doors on both sides of the this hall and a small circular window in the center of the wall with more plastic plants at the sides at the end said hallway. Annie starts to walk ahead, "Your room is just up here."

Bella follows cautiously and finds herself in front of the 3rd door, which is stark white, on the left side. She notices a key-lock on the door handle.

Annie must have noticed her gaze, "I'm sorry. We have to lock you in until your evaluation is done and you can be properly situated into a program. Even then, it's a privilege given with good behavior and cooperation to therapy and medical treatment."

There are so many things wrong with that statement, Bella thought. They might as well do her a favor and put her in solitary away from danger. As for "medical treatment", well, enough said.

Annie pulled out a ring of keys like a magician. It amazed Bella that she found the right key amongst fifty different ones. As far as she could see, there weren't any labels. After the door was opened, Bella got her first look at her new and hopefully temporary living space.

It was white. That same stark white as the door, and it bothered her like something was gnawing at her stomach. Maybe she could barf up color? It would help, no matter how bad it smelled after. There was a dresser with a mirror held in plastic so she couldn't break it. A small rectangular window about a couple inches high is at the top center of the eight-foot back wall. There's a ceiling light also encased in plastic _What a surprise_. The sole bed was twin-sized. White sheets, white pillow. No headboard or foot-board she could bludgeon her head on. The dresser had rounded edges. She could throw herself on that, but who wants a death by dresser edge?

"You can put your clothes in the dresser. Your first appointment with Dr. Cullen is in 30 minutes. You have time to use the restroom and freshen up before you go to the office."

Bella almost jumped. She didn't realize the nurse was still there, but she nodded all the same. She didn't want to draw too much attention to herself at all while she's here. That would mean people would try to approach her more than they already have. Plus, they'll drug her and that's never fun. She's a cutter not a crack head.

Annie slowly closed the door behind Bella, as if she were anticipating an attack or something. It's not very unreasonable because it really is the quiet ones you always have to look out for.

Bella then turned back to look at her room again. Her room, her newly-forced home.


End file.
